The Diary of Jane
by Junamrsgrl
Summary: The record of how a young girl comes to terms with love and life and learns how to cope with its unexplainable loss...Setting: Texas just prior to the start of the Civil War, during Jasper's time as a human. Non-canon.
1. Chapter 1

17 August, 1860

Diary,

My enthusiasm upon making your acquaintance knows no bounds...allow me to introduce myself: I am Lucinda Jane but most of my friends simply call me Jane, as there is another girl with the name of Lucinda in my class, who is older than I.

I find it nearly impossible to believe that my dear brother Stephen could have bestowed such a wonderful gift upon me; I have always assumed him to be more or less indifferent to my existence, being so much older than I. Papa only scoffed at the enjoyment I showed for my gift; he thinks that the only writing a well bred lady should be partaking in is for letters to acquaintances, and possibly the weekly list of what needs to be procured at the market. He knows not how I long to be useful in some way, or truly enjoy an activity of my own. Mama despairs of ever finding a husband for me, and though it matters less to me, I do as well sometimes...Having an occupation will do me very well, I am inclined to believe.

I want nothing more than to be allowed to continue sharing my thoughts with you, but as fate would have it, Mama is taking me to the big city today, and I must prepare for the journey. She says we are to be visiting Aunt Rose for a few days, who will be taking us to her seamstress...my wardrobe is to be expanded to include all of the most recent fashionable attire, a tedious task if ever there was one. I am aware of the real purpose of course; I overheard her explaining the necessity of the trip to Papa. Aunt Rose is planning an event in which she is inviting the families of many marriageable young men for my cousin Lulabelle to consider as a possible husband; Mama fervently hopes that I may take, as I have failed to here, and catch one for myself as well. I know not how she was able to talk Aunt Rose into allowing me to come and provide any sort of competition for Lula, but to ease her burden and give her pleasure I will be a dutiful daughter and attend with no complaint. Perhaps if I am extremely lucky, I will catch the notice of one of my dear cousin's castoffs and my mama will stop parading me around like so much horseflesh, available to the highest bidder- it grows wearisome for the both of us.

Fear not, diary. I shall share the trivialities of my life often as I am able to. I suspect I will be kept busy in the forthcoming days, but I will relay the results of my mother's matchmaking efforts as soon as it is possible for me to do so...

Jane


	2. Chapter 2

19 August, 1860

Diary,

I have returned to you sooner than even I anticipated...I find that I quite enjoy relaying my thoughts to you on the events of my day. Perhaps I shall endeavour to write nightly.

We returned quite late to my Aunt Rose's house tonight; it was nearly full dark by the time the carriage stopped in the drive. I have sneaked out on to the veranda nearest the streetlamp in order to scribe this entry as I am meant to be fast asleep so that I may awake refreshed and ready for the events of the day, whatever they may be, according to Mama. She thinks me ignorant of her plans; Cousin Lula has wasted no time in apprising me of this grand affaire I am to be attending. She has also wasted no time in remarking that she is indeed glad I have come; Surely when compared to me, she shall have her pick of the eligible young men. Lula has always been spiteful to me. I am certain that she will have a long and happy marriage with the beau of her choice once he becomes aware of her true nature. I am heartily ashamed; I should not speak such ill words of another.

So the morrow then, is when this affaire is to be held, presumably here as the maids have been scurrying frightfully around the house since our arrival. Also, I spied one of the slave boys whitewashing the fence as we arrived the day before yesterday. I can only hope that my best gown is suitable enough for this event; we went to the seamstress yesterday, but it will be days before any of the garments we ordered will be ready. Were I a more suspicious person, I might wonder if I am not purposely meant to be shown at a disadvantage, as the poorer country relation, all for the sake of my cousin.

Oh diary, I am of an exceedingly ill humor tonight. If I continue to write, I shall surely continue to maliciously slander my Aunt and my Cousin. I will refrain then. We shall be here for no more than a week before my dresses are available and we may travel home. I shall just attempt to keep my Aunt and my Cousin in good spirits and wait my time out.

I cannot express what a comfort it is diary, to be able to expunge all of my troubles from my person on to your pages. It is an exercise that greatly renews my vigor, being able to share my innermost thoughts with someone. Perhaps to-morrow evening will bring happier news and more interesting...

Until the morrow,

Jane

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**Notice**: This story is intended for entertainment only. I am doing some very loose historical research on pieces of the time period as I write the entries, but I am very sure that not everything will be historically accurate. Also, I am not a philologist; so if anything about the history or the speech pattern bothers you, consider this your warning.

Jasper will be joining us soon, fear not. Thank you to all readers and future readers; I will try to update as often as possible, in the way that diary entries are written. Feel free to review at any time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Up to this point, everything that has been written has come from my own imagination...but now that we're at a turning point, I need to give credit where it's due... **

**Jasper Whitlock belongs solely to Stephanie, much as I would love to claim him as my own.**

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_21 August, 1860_

Diary,

I can scarce draw breath I am simply bursting for my desire to tell you about the events of this evening past! Lula, my Aunt Rose and Mama are no doubt fast asleep as I write this by the dawning light, but my exuberance simply will not be tamped- my mind and indeed my body are far too active to partake in sleep, exhausted though I am. My hands shake still at the memory...oh, be still traitorous hands, so that I may recall! I shall start at the beginning though my hands yearn to preempt me.

The affaire for Cousin Lula went much as expected. Though led to believe the gathering would be a moderate dinner affair, it turned out to be more a soiree for which I was sorely underdressed and ill prepared. Even Mama seemed aghast at the proceedings once Aunt Rose divulged the grandeur of her planning. Indeed she was fuming at her sister, my Aunt, by the time guests began to arrive and had taken to her room with one of her megrims. There was naught to do but don my best dress and try to accept the goings on with some grace and amiability. Cousin Lula seemed to think my predicament amusing, but in truth not a word was uttered to me about my lack of more formal wear. Every guest I had the pleasure of speaking to treated me civilly and graciously, though surely I looked well the part of poor country cousin. In truth I was pleased to be received so well by my Aunt's guests despite my obvious discomfort and was able to share niceties with several intriguing characters, including some of the young men invited to court Lula. I even found myself being asked to dance by some of them, which I felt must be out of pity since they were so obviously taken with Lula, but I enjoyed this none the less. They were all very handsome, amiable young men and I would have been pleased if any of them had shown the smallest preference for me as a potential wife. None of them did alas, but oh dear diary, I am not uncertain that this was meant to be! Please hands, fail me not now, just when I come to the truly excitable...

Early in the morn, after the serving of dinner and the dancing was well underway, I left the big house and walked to the stable to take some fresh air and enjoy the solitude. As I leaned against the stable door, gazing at the constellations and taking in the clammy night air, a voice in the richest of tenors startled me from my reverie. "Ma'am, please forgive my intrusion on your person... I cannot help but wonder if it is not unsafe for such an obviously virtuous lady to be outside unescorted this late of an evening?" the voice said. I panicked for but a moment, but his voice was so calm and steady I could not help but to trust it even though the man was a stranger to me. His feet I could hear, making their way in the shadows of the stable, before ever setting eyes upon his countenance. Unsure of what best to do, I stood frozen- unable to move the merest hairsbreadth and all the while my heart knocked my ribs painfully. My cheeks burned, for he was not wrong; never should I have left the house without the companionship of the maid my Aunt Rose had assigned. I fretted dreadfully; to be caught with a man, unaccompanied, would bring shame and ruin to my entire family. Worse, what if the man turned out to be of ill repute or vile character?

The moment he stepped into the moonlight, all my worst fears washed away on the soft breeze that had picked up. He was not quite yet a man, but neither a child. He was also the handsomest boy I had seen in all my fifteen years. The breeze ruffled the tips of his pale hair to which he responded by removing his hat and gracing me with a slight bow. "Jasper Whitlock at your service, ma'am," he remarked with a smile made of witchery as I gazed up at him (for he was very tall), all the while attempting to remember to breathe...

Drat! Cousin Lula taps at my door. Does she not think me to be asleep? Perhaps if I ignore...Forsooth! Why is she not sleeping soundly? I am terribly sorry diary, to cut our encounter short, for I have much more to share but if I do not answer the door without delay, Lula may find some success in her forcible entry. At any rate, she is wont to wake up the entire household in the manner with which she carries on.

To-morrow cannot come soon enough!

Jane


	4. Chapter 4

**Jasper's not mine. If he was, well...I don't think I'd be writing about it.**

* * *

_24 August, 1860_

Diary,

Words can not express how terribly sorry I am to have kept you waiting all this time. I feel I am forever apologizing, yet in this case no other feasible option presented itself before me. My neglect is certainly not willing- I have taken to concealing you from sight to avoid the inquisitive eyes of Cousin Lula, who appears doggedly at my door for the most trivial reasons of late. The amount of writing I may achieve daily is sorely taxed, as I must wait 'til she goes visiting with Aunt Rose to commit my thoughts. I have not the veriest idea of what she hopes to gain with this odd behavior, but I do not wish to share you with her, for obvious reasons. This evening however I have reason to believe my Cousin may not return until nearer to dinner, so I will waste no further time; I have much more that I wish to pen regarding my extraordinary experience of a few evenings past, lest I forget the exact events.

My encounter with Mr. Whitlock startled me nigh unto death, he emerging from the shadows in that mysterious manner. When he removed his hat and smiled at me, oh diary, I confess my heart was immediately taken prisoner. "Jasper Whitlock at your service, ma'am," he had said, while he placed his hat on a nearby post which he inclined on quite casually, as if we were the best of companions rather than strangers that had not yet formally met. 'Til that point I believe I had been rendered somewhat motionless and mute, it is quite lowering to admit. His movement abruptly ceased me to leave off with my woolgathering. I realized then that my mouth was agape and my cheeks still burning. He watched me intently- presumably waiting for a response while all I was able to do was open and close my mouth like a simpleton. My cheeks were already aflame so he could not possibly have known my humiliation. I attempted to convince my mouth to function properly but it seemed only capable of repeating the same nonsense that I could not help but thinking. I clearly recall saying, "I am....I...I..." and questioning frantically how I could have forgot my own name when he utterly shocked me by supplying the words, "Cousin Lucinda Jane," and gracing me with another grin of devilry. I do believe the look on my face must have alarmed him for he stood up straighter of a sudden; perhaps he thought my constitution frail and was only being a gentleman in the event that I may need reviving. Still my mouth refused to bear the simplest of sentences for me, as I ineffectively attempted to discern how it was that this dashing stranger knew of me. "How did...I'm sorry...do I...?" was the extent of my ability to converse. Blessedly, he seemed to know what I was on about. "You are wondering how it is that I know your name, is that it?" I must have nodded, for he continued, "Lulabelle," and smiled conspiratorially. I suspect I let out an utterly confused "Oh," to which he chuckled at me in return. "May I confess myself to you without fear of my discourtesy finding its way to your cousin?" he asked in a whispering tone. I admit I was rapt with both his presence and his desire to bestow a confidence on me, particularly when the confidence concerned my Cousin. I would be lying however, if I failed to admit that in that moment I was terrified that he might disclose a partiality for my cousin that may unwittingly break my poor heart. I held my breath instinctively, waiting for his next words. I confess that a great burden felt lifted from me when he said, "Your cousin is indeed very beautiful, but I cannot imagine her as my wife. There is something about the diversity of our characters that I feel might make a most difficult union for both if us." I knew not what to say to this. I felt an odd relief, but also wondered why this stranger would share such a confidence with me. He must have mistaken my silence for censure; after a moment he followed his own confession with a query. "That is, after all, my purpose for being here to-night, is it not- to choose a wife? Unless I am mistaken in my overbearing parent's demand that I attend." He tilted his head to one side then, as if gauging my reaction. His eyes glittered in the lamplight while the hollows of his perfect face remained hidden in shadow, reminding me of the stars I had been gazing at. The darkness seemed to give me anonymity and some small measure of bravery, though I could not help but to be painfully aware that he clearly knew of my person. "Yes," I replied gravely, all the while thinking the irony too keen that neither of us seemed at all interested in our intended purposes for being here to-night. He watched me solemnly as if he expected more words to emerge from my mouth, prompting me to admit my own purpose for attending was much the same. He only nodded at my words before leaning against the rail once more.

I felt certain I should attempt to remove myself from such a potentially scandalous situation, but it was comfortable, being in the companionship of such another who shared my sentiments. I must admit as well that I had no immediate desire to leave his presence- it soothed me in a way I still wonder at. Knowing not what else to do, I resumed my perusal of the vast sky and enjoyed the relaxation of silence between us. It felt as if years passed in that manner, though it was likely no more than minutes. When he abruptly stood and gathered his hat, I startled. "I am terribly sorry, Miss Lucinda Jane- it breaks my heart, but I must beg for your pardon- it will not do for either of us to be discovered in such a compromising fashion," he said as he bowed to me once more. I had already begun to mourn the loss of his excellent company and beautiful visage, which I fear showed on my face for he bestowed that beautiful smile on me once more and chuckled. What he did next, I am like to never forget should I live to be a hundred. He moved closer still than even he was already and captured my hand in his. He brought my hand to his lips in an achingly slow fashion and said, "To the day we may meet again, Miss Lucinda Jane." Then, against all propriety he grazed not the back of hand with his lips, but the inner of my wrist! Oh diary, I nearly swooned on spot. I felt my cheeks heat once more, this time more violently than ever and watched as he tipped his hat to me and melted back into the shadows of the stable from whence he had come. I stood watching the darkness, grasping my wrist in utter disbelief and hoping against desperate hope to make out his pale hair as he retreated into the shadows, when the door to the house opened forcefully. My dream state vanished into the shadows with Mr. Whitlock, particularly when I heard the maid my Aunt Rose had assigned to me calling my name timidly. Feeling sorry for the poor girl, for she had probably been roundly scolded already for losing her charge, I gathered my skirts and hurried to her. As I joined the guests once more, I could not help but to search them for my tall, dashing Mr. Whitlock. I was sorely disappointed when I spotted no one of his stature. At that time, guests began taking their leave. I made my way to my room shortly thereafter and the rest you already know.

I cannot help but feel particularly exuberant with the manner in which Mr. Whitlock treated me that night. My heart races and my palms turn damp when I recall the events in my mind; the place on my wrist where he placed his kiss tingles daily. I never thought to hear myself say this but I now think it altogether possible that love may have at last pierced me with its arrow.

But oh diary, the real question remains: will I ever see him again?

Jane

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	5. Chapter 5

27 August, 1860

Diary,

Yet again I find that we have been separated far too long for my liking, particularly when I have such a story to tell. I long for the time when I may set you wherever I so please and enter my thoughts at any time...I am unable to do so here with my very actions scrutinized in such a suspicious fashion. There is an unbearable conflict now within me tho- I find that I can not wish to leave here fast enough, yet I can not bear the thought of leaving either, not after the events of today.

Oh diary, I saw him again, against all odds- Mr. Whitlock! I can feel the blood rush to my face just as I recall.

Cousin Lulabelle, Aunt Rose, Mama and I went today to the fashionable part of town today at my Aunt Rose's insistence that we enjoy one last jaunt about town before our scheduled departure to-morrow, a thing I had been looking forward to greatly until this very afternoon. We visited with the dressmaker to assure that our garments would be delivered today (they were en route to my Aunt's house as we spoke) and afterwards Lulabelle wished to visit the milliner for some new ribbon. Mama and I did nothing more than browse as almost all of our funds were tied up in my new dresses and travel expenses. I found it passing strange when Lula desperately needed my opinion on ribbon colors for she takes every opportunity to tell me how ill the colors of my current fashions appear near my skin tone, but my choice was sorely limited when she grasped me by the arm and bodily dragged me with her. All too soon I realized that she only wished to engage in niceties with another girl in the shop whom I had not yet met and was using me solely as an opportunity to strike up conversation without seeming ill-mannered. I wondered at this as I have never seen Lula be so soliciting of attention from another female in all the time I've known her. All became apparent when we left the milliner and Lula managed to extract an invitation to afternoon tea with Miss Emmaline. I gather from her inquiries that Cousin Lulabelle fancied her brother though I was not directly privy to such knowledge. In truth, once she had used my person to gain her audience with Miss Emmaline, I was ignored in typical fashion. It was only due to Miss Emmaline's good breeding that I or my mother were invited to join them for tea, which I noted Lulabelle sulked over.

We followed Miss Emmaline and her maid down the street to a charming café where we partook of biscuits and tea whilst we awaited the arrival of her brother, who had escorted his sister to town. He apparently had no wish to look at fripperies and she no interest in judging horseflesh, thus the necessity of the maid; they were to meet in this tea shop before traveling home together.

I admit diary, by then I was more than ready to return to my Aunt Rose's house. I wanted nothing more than to flee to my room, perhaps try my new garments and wait the rest of this mostly wretched trip out. My mind wandered to the activity on the street as Lula and Aunt Rose tittered with Miss Emmaline, who did indeed attempt to include us at least. I believe I gazed into nothingness for several moments before a movement on the street startled me back. It took me a moment to focus my gaze, but once I did, I realized that the wavy blond hair that had been haunting my dreams, even the waking ones, was impossibly before my eyes. What more, he was approaching the very shop we were frequenting! I had trouble concealing my emotions, so tumultuous they were. A part of me wished to jump from my chair as he entered the shop and greet him 'til I realized how scandalous such a gesture would be- for all intents, we were strangers being introduced at this very moment. A larger part of me wished to hide behind the nearest available person particularly when he entered the shop and recognized me. He did not give anything away, but oh, the ability he has to smile with just his eyes! I know that I flushed a small amount, it could not be helped. I can not be certain, but I think Cousin Lula may have observed my reaction, for she gave me a very tight-lipped smile. It dawned on me then that this was Miss Emmaline's brother, the boy Lula fancied. For a moment, I felt the sting of envy; Lula is far more attractive than I by modern standards and she always gets what she wants besides. Then I recalled the odd conversation I had with Mr. Whitlock and my fears abated. Diary, I admit to you now freely, I find that I am vindictive enough to find no small amount of amusement in the fact that I know Lula is destined to fail where Mr. Whitlock is concerned. I do not hold any special hope for myself of course- I cannot think why such an amiable, handsome gentleman would be interested in me. Still, it goes a long way to soothing my longing to know that whomever he eventually declares himself to, it will under no circumstances be my odious cousin.

As he drew nearer the table, I became aware of several things all at once. Lula sat up a little straighter, as well as Aunt Rose who clearly encouraged my cousin's affections. A smile lit Miss Emmaline's face to rival the sun; clearly the siblings were close. I had no recourse but to busy myself elsewhere while greetings were delivered, lest I gave myself away. As was proper, he greeted first his sister before expressing his pleasure over seeing Lula and her esteemed mama so soon after an event. Smoothly, he turned the greetings to an introduction for he had not yet met mama or me- at least not formally. I attempted to curtsy graciously when Aunt Rose introduced us, but I fear that my own fear of falling kept me from doing so. It was extremely difficult to restrain my emotions, but I knew that it was necessary to do so unless I wished for Lula to realize the actual circumstances behind my acquaintance with Mr. Whitlock, who did not help matters by gifting me with those breathtaking little smiles when the others were distracted amongst themselves.

I believe I sat in silence for most of our visit, in part because I did not wish to seem forward and in part because Lula was suspicious with me, I could tell. Mr. Whitlock seemed to sense the tension, for he kept the conversation light and flowing smoothly; such a charisma and affability I have never seen in a man. Oh how desperately I wished against all logic that he would pay me court.

The time came for us to take our leave all too soon, for the Whitlock's carriage had arrived to carry them back home. I confess that I recall little of the actual conversation; my mind was utterly distracted with how dashing and attractive Mr. Whitlock appeared. In the darkness, I had been able only to see his pale hair and white teeth; he had been beautiful then. In the full light, he was a contemporary Adonis- it was terribly difficult to look elsewhere. I am certain Cousin Lula was beyond annoyed with me at this point, tho she understood not why. We traveled as a group to the street where Mr. Whitlock first handed his sister up to the carriage (such a gentleman), then favored My Aunt Rose, Cousin Lula, mama and I with a courtly kiss on the back of our hands. His proximity to my person was unnerving; my heart raced beyond control and my every nerve felt as if on fire. I already knew what his lips felt like on my skin, and I know I shivered a little in anticipation. To my mind, he lingered just a second longer over my hand; I found myself holding my breath when he raised his amused eyes to mine and winked ever so imperceptibly- whether he only teased, I know not. I care not. He is the handsomest man I ever saw.

He and his sister bid us farewell then, until we met again. This evoked a small pain in my heart, for I knew the possibility of seeing him again was unlikely. We do not move in the same social circles in the first, and come to town but rarely besides. Also, I thought it unlikely that we would be receiving any more invitations to stay with Aunt Rose and Uncle Henry- Lula will take care of that, I am sure. We waved until the carriage rolled out of sight, then made our way back to the corner where our own carriage was waiting to convey us back to the house.

My dresses had arrived by the time we returned, but in truth diary, I cannot concentrate on anything other than Mr. Whitlock at this moment in time. He steals into my every thought in a quite distracting manner. Oh how I do wish we may run into one another again! For now though, I must away; Lula has been strangely silent all afternoon since our visit with the Whitlocks, and I know she will come knocking on my door soon for some reason or another.

I look forward to the time we may spend together in the future (though sorely I wish Mr. Whitlock were a part of that future!)... 'Til next time,

Jane


	6. Chapter 6

30 August, 1860

Diary,

Today has been without doubt one of the most tiresome days of my existence. The journey home has been plagued with horrid weather, which has forced us to take a room at an inn for the night, at the very least. We may possibly have to stay longer I am told; apparently our carriage needs repair after attempting to brave the storm and there is only one wainwright on the premise. Furthermore, we are not the only party currently awaiting his services. Mama has become downright unpleasant over the whole; she abhors deviation from her plans and is especially aggravated over the extra expense. In addition, we are unable to send a messenger to notify father of our delay due to the condition of the road. It is especially vexing as Mama will not allow me to leave; she claims to have observed some 'vile characters' as we checked in and deems our personal safety dependent on keeping locked to our rooms. Thankfully I have you to occupy me else she may drive me quite mad. Also, she seems especially interested in discussing the events of yesterday morn...or rather, she seems interested in telling herself frequently and in audible distance how very charming Mr. Whitlock was; did I not think so? When she first mentioned it, I worried that maybe she had discovered my preference for him. After a half dozen mentions I began to understand that it was not my preference we were discussing, but hers. I could do no more than nod where appropriate as I had no wish to appear overeager, though I concurred in earnest that it would be a shame for him to find himself attached to my cousin Lula, which according to Mama was a very real possibility. Apparently Aunt Rose has taken great pains to appear suitable in every possible way before his family in an attempt to place her daughter into a very fortunate marriage. I wondered at that; having only recently met him, I know next to nothing of he or his family. Why should Aunt Rose and Lula be so solicitous of him? Upon discreet inquiry, Mama told me that his father is a politician, and his family one of the most affluent in Galveston. He is very highly sought after by the young marriageable ladies. Personally I think it less to do with his family bank-book and more to do with his fine figure, beyond pleasing countenance and easy character. Mama has no idea how very charming and solicitous Mr. Whitlock is...why, if she but knew of our chance meeting in the stables...and heavens above, I know not how a man can look so utterly fetching by moonlight and yet improve in looks by daylight! Even now, I remember with clarity our interaction...he is so very tall. It is both disconcerting yet comforting in some capacity. He smiles not only with his lips, but with his eyes as well- the effect is bewitching. And I believe I must play in my head a hundred times over his nearness to me, the heat radiating from him, and most of all the feel of his breath on my wrist. Thinking on it now gives me shivers yet again...Drat- Mama has noticed my distance and wishes to know what I write of that takes me so far away from her conversation.

I have returned, Mama none the wiser. It was simple enough to distract her; I merely mentioned how lovely Mr. Whitlock's sister Emmaline was and she kept herself quite occupied with this subject, among others pertaining to Mr. Whitlock himself, for nigh on an hour before retiring to bed. I regret that I must retire myself; the arduous journey has exhausted me greatly and I find that I long for nothing more than to close my eyes and let sleep overtake me. Perhaps if I am exceedingly blessed I shall dream about a tall, handsome young man with the fairest of hair and smiles sweeping me off of my feet and saving me from the wretched fate of spinsterhood. Alas diary, a girl can dream...

Fondly,

Jane


End file.
